As they reached the clan's back courtyard, passing servants gawked with surprise.
Charles noticed their eyes widen at Nora, her black tunic with white trim marking her as a Master.
But the real showstopper was the bull floating behind them.
A couple of servants stopped, whispering to each other, and Charles caught snippets of their chatter:
"Is that a bull?"
"Where'd they hunt it?"
"What's Rian doing with a Master?"
Charles tried to tune them out, keeping his eyes on the system's blue arrow guiding him to the dining hall.
But when they reached the entrance, the same burly guard from before stood there, gray tunic, scruffy beard, and all. His eyes narrowed at Charles, and before he could speak, the man raised a hand.
"What're you doing here, Rian?" he growled, crossing his arms. "Trying to sneak in again?"
Charles sighed, anger bubbling in his chest, but he kept his cool.
"I'm here to eat with Nora," he said, gesturing to her. "That's not against the rules, is it?"
The guard glanced at Nora, then at the floating bull, his expression hardening.
"You know the rules, kid," he said, his tone dripping with contempt. "Servants like you eat when the dining hall's empty. Beat it before I kick you out."
Charles peeked inside the dining hall.
A few servants sat in a corner, eating bowls of soup and stale bread, while a handful of people in solid black tunics sat at separate tables.
The unfairness hit him like a punch.
"Seriously?" Charles said, voice tight. "You planning to starve me or what?"
Before the guard could reply, Nora stepped forward, placing a hand on the shoulder of a young servant passing by with an empty tray.
The kid froze, visibly nervous at her tunic.
"You," Nora said, her tone calm but firm. "Come with me a sec."
She glanced at Charles, nodding.
"Rian, follow me."
Charles blinked, confused, but trailed her as she walked a few meters from the entrance.
The guard watched with a mix of suspicion and annoyance but said nothing.
Out of earshot, Nora turned to Charles.
"What do you want to eat?" she asked, like they were at a diner, not stuck in a clan with absurd rules.
Charles laughed, thrown by her attitude.
"I'm so hungry I'd eat anything," he said, scratching his neck. "Soup, bread, whatever. I'm not picky."
Nora nodded and turned to the servant, who stood there looking nervous.
"Go to the dining hall and get a plate of food for him," she said, pointing at Charles. "Whatever's there, but make it quick."
The servant paled.
"B-but, ma'am, my eating shift's over," he stammered, staring at the ground. "I can't—"
Nora cut him off, raising an eyebrow.
"Are you questioning my order?" she said, her tone more warning than question. "I'm a Master, and I'm telling you to do it. Got a problem?"
The servant swallowed hard, shaking his head.
"No, ma'am, no problem," he said, bowing awkwardly. "I'll go now."
He spun around and bolted toward the dining hall, nearly tripping over his tunic.
Charles let out a chuckle, impressed.
"Damn, that was… straight to the point," he said, looking at Nora. "You eating too? You said you hadn't had anything in two days."
Nora smiled, gesturing to the floating bull.
"I'm taking this to the kitchen and grabbing something for myself," she said. "Don't worry about me."
Charles frowned, confused.
"But didn't you just send that guy to get food?" he asked, pointing toward the dining hall. "Why go to the kitchen?"
Nora laughed, a soft, amused sound.
"You'll figure out the perks of being a Master here soon enough," she said, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Stay here and eat. I'll be back in a bit."
Without another word, she headed to the dining hall, the bull floating behind her.
The guard let her pass without a peep, though his face stayed sour.
Charles stood there, watching Nora enter.
Some servants and black-tunic folks turned to stare, clearly shocked by the floating bull.
'Talk about making an entrance,' he thought, smirking.
He plopped onto the ground near the entrance, waiting for the servant.
Hunger had him dizzy, and every second felt like forever.
Finally, the servant returned, holding a plate of food that didn't exactly scream gourmet.
It was a mix of boiled meat, soggy pasta, and overcooked veggies.
The smell wasn't awful, but it wasn't a party either.
Still, Charles took it with a huge grin.
"Thanks, man," he said, handling the plate carefully. "I owe you one."
The servant didn't reply.
He just shot Charles a look of pure disdain before turning and walking off.
Charles frowned, annoyed.
"What's your deal, jerk?" he muttered, but his focus shifted to the plate.
It was his first meal in this world, and even if it wasn't a feast, he was ready to scarf it down.
The guard, still at the entrance, glared at him, clearly pissed.
Charles couldn't resist. He stuck out his tongue with a mocking grin, thinking, 'Take that, asshole.'
The guard clenched his fists but stayed silent, making Charles laugh internally.
He was about to shove a piece of meat in his mouth when he noticed a crucial detail.
"That bastard…" Charles growled, staring at the plate. "That son of a bitch didn't bring me any utensils."
He looked around for something useful, but there was nothing.
Hunger won out, so, cursing under his breath, he ditched manners.
"Screw it," Charles muttered, digging in with his hands, tearing off chunks of meat and pasta.
The food wasn't bad, though it was lukewarm and bland.
The meat was tough, the pasta mushy, and the veggies had a bitter edge.
But to Charles, who hadn't eaten in days, it was a miracle.
"Yeah, this beats nothing," he said between bites, fingers slick with sauce.
Then Nora returned, holding a plate that nearly made Charles choke.
It was massive, almost twice the size of his, piled with food that looked incredible.
There were pieces of fried meat, golden and crispy, with an aroma that made Charles's stomach growl with envy.
Next to it, roasted potatoes with herbs, a fresh veggie salad glistening with oil, and a golden roll that looked fresh from the oven.
There was even a small bowl of thick, spicy-smelling sauce.
Nora sat beside him on the ground, a playful smile on her face.
"Why're you eating like a caveman?" she asked, eyeing the pasta dangling from his fingers.
Charles grunted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"That jerk didn't bring me utensils," he said, nodding toward where the servant had vanished. "Left me with this and walked off like I'm trash."
Nora sighed, rolling her eyes.
"Some people are such idiots," she muttered.
Without a word, she handed him her own utensils—a metal fork and knife that looked way cleaner than anything Charles had touched here.
"Here," she said, setting her plate down beside her. "Be right back."
Charles blinked, surprised by the gesture.
"Hey, thanks," he said, taking the utensils with a grin. "You're nicer than you look, you know."
Nora laughed, standing.
"Don't get used to it," she said, heading back to the dining hall.
Charles watched her go, the guard not daring to say a word, and couldn't help thinking, 'Being a Master definitely has its perks.'